The Better Choice
by PsychoticAppleSauce
Summary: "It was mistake to let him walk out of my life so easily. I should've tried harder to stop him. Freddie was definatly the better choice." Sad one-shot. T for violence and slight language.


The angry bruises that speckle my arms twinge with pain when the slight whisper of my breath floats over them dreamily. The pounding on the door has long since ceased and the house whistles as the wind struggles through the drafty roof. The grungy bathroom floor is freezing against my bare feet and the single dingy lightbulb gives off an eerie yellow glow that sways back and forth across my swollen face. Blood trickles from my nose and seeps into the fabric of my pants. I'm curled up in the corner of the bathroom with the door locked tight. My arms are wrapped securely around my trembling knees as I wait for the shuffle of awakening feet to echo in the hallway. How pathetic I must look right now. Can you see Sam Puckett hiding in a disgusting bathroom trembling with fear? These last few years have shattered the old Sam into a million tiny fragments and glued her back together full of cracks and missing pieces. The house moans, making my body reflexively tense and my hands to cover my face. I let out a breath of relief and let my body sag.

My tiny body stays on constant alert as the night makes its rounds. From the grime-encrusted window, I can see the faded sight of a full moon resting among the stars. My mind's eye tugs at my wrist and pulls me out of this place and into the sky where the stars twinkle brightly and chatter at my arrival. We float together all night, no bruises, no fear, no pain, until the sun fades us away into the light. A creak on the stairs snaps me out of my wonderful dream. Another creak.

Someone is coming up the stairs, slowly, pausing now and then. My body seems melted to the bathroom wall as I grab my legs and hug them again. The footsteps become louder and heavier as they make their way into the room, casting long shadows under the door.

"Sam? Sam open this goddamn door!" the familiar husky voice roars through the wooden door. I'm silent, hoping he'll decide to ignore me tonight. The door rattles with the force of a fist making it's impact with the already weakened wood. I cling to my scrawny legs as if holding them tight enough will make him go away. Jacob's fists are too much for the abused door as an ominous crack slams into my eardrums. I hear my husband's satisfied cackle as his foot finally breaks the thing that has saved me so many times. He's standing in the doorway, clutching a bottle of alcohol and half-smoked cigarette.

"There you are Sammy." He purrs, putting his fingers lightly on my chin and blowing the acrid smoke into my face. He begins to lightly kiss my neck, making me shudder in disdain. I don't want him even touching me with those lips I hate so much. He forces his lips on mine, pushing me down onto the freezing tile. His mouth tastes like smoke and whiskey which makes my stomach twist and threaten to heave. I try to fight him off with my arms but he makes sure they're bruised enough to make them useless. I let them flop to my sides and wait for this hell to end soon. He pauses and lightly strokes my cheek.

"You know you enjoy every moment of this." He says, pushing a stray curl off my cheek, then going back to forcefully kissing me. I want so badly to make it all go away. As my torture becomes more intense, my mind wanders back to the good days before I met this asshole. What an odd thought to come flooding back into my mind as these things happen.

Freddie and I are sitting in the purple restaurant, laughing and eating the most amazing lasagna to ever cross my taste buds.

We're sitting on Carly's couch, looking at the stars Spencer pasted on the ceiling. Things are so perfect. Wonderful night slain by arguments. Freddie storming out of the room. Our friendship damaged beyond repair. Everything falling apart. Me meeting Jacob. The marriage. He was so sweet the first couple of months. So happy.

So blissful.

Alcohol.

Drugs.

Abuse.

Rape.

Maybe that's why I now let my mind wonder back to those euphoric times of friendship and being happy. Freddie's grinning face in the camera and Carly's constant laughter. So many years of silence now. I wasn't sure my voice would even work now after so many years of neglect.

"Get off." It comes out wispy and cracked. Jacob actually pauses and looks down at me in astonishment. His face slowly morphs into amusement as he laughs at such a weak voice.

"Get off!" I snarl, letting my long fingernails sink into his flesh. I can feel that strength returning to me. I try so hard to push him away. But the bruises sear with such intensity that I must release my grip. Jacob forces my head down against the tile, growling at my resistance. The impact of my head and the tile makes my head throb with pain. I couldn't do it! I was so…

…Weak…

Looking back at all that time spent with Freddie, I feel such intense regret that my chest explodes with pain. Tears surface in my eyes and drip down my cheeks in long streaks. It was mistake to let him walk out of my life so easily. I should've tried harder to stop him. Freddie was definatly the better choice. His face was plastered in my mind as darkness pulled me into the sky along with the full moon and the stars that welcomed me once again.

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